The Shrine of Friendship
by OrangeCrush6
Summary: A series of drabbles involving Les Amis de l'ABC, centering around Éponine/Grantaire friendship. One-sided É/M, one sided E/R, M/C. Modern AU.
1. A Friend in Need is a Friend Indeed

_In which Grantaire gets drunk and stays out late, and Éponine comes to find him_

* * *

Grantaire felt nothing. As he set the empty bottle on the table next to its brethren, he paused as another wave of drunken warmth washed over him, numbing him to the cruelness of the world. The sensation spread over his body like a blanket. His face contorted into the mirthful grin that only the intoxicated can achieve. He loved and hated himself.

As he reached for the next bottle of wine, the doors of the Café Musain opened, and a dark-haired girl entered. Spotting her drunken friend indulging in his favorite pastime at a table in the center of the room, she grimaced and walked over to his table. As she sat down next to him, she reached out her hand and gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze.

"Ah, Ponine," Grantaire slurred. "How are you on this fine evening?"

"Nothing new, R." Éponine returned, staring at the ground. "Marius is over at Cosette's house, and my father is in one of his famous moods. I'm not looking forward to going home."

Grantaire blinked at his friend for a moment, then said, "He didn't hit you again, did he? If he did, I'm going to teach him a lesson."

Éponine laughed darkly. "No, nothing happened tonight. And I appreciate the sentiment R, but you're in no condition to take on my father one on one, much less to confront him and Patron-Minette." Eyeing the empty bottles on the table, she added, "How long have you been in here, 'Taire? I see six empty wine bottles here."

The drunk popped the cork and chuckled. "Ponine, I haven't left since the meeting ended. That was what, three hours ago? I've lost track of time, and my phone's dead."

"Try five hours, R. It's three in the morning."

"Oh. Guess I've been here a while. As you can see, I've been in the company of a host of fascinating people," Grantaire muttered, motioning around the otherwise empty café. "Really, it's been quite riveting. I wish you could've been here to join me."

"I was here, Grantaire. You and Courfeyrac invited me to stay the night, remember? I left with him when the meeting adjourned. You said you'd join us after you had a word with Enjolras. I couldn't sleep, and you didn't come home, so I came looking for you," the girl explained demurely. "What happened?"

"What happened? Shit happened, that's what," Grantaire scoffed. "Enjolras was all business, as usual. He has no time for anything other than his beloved _Patria_." He grabbed the bottle and took an enormous swig, then wiped his mouth in disgust.

Éponine looked at her hands as she thought of what to say next. She wasn't one for words of comfort, but she and Grantaire had an interesting relationship, as they both had feelings for individuals who didn't reciprocate. Finally, she looked up and asked, "What did he say, R?"

Another snort issued from Grantaire. "What did he say? What does he usually say, Ep? 'Be serious for once, Grantaire!' 'Your drunken commentary is unnecessary, Grantaire!' Or my personal favorite, 'If you'd put the bottle down for once in your life, maybe you'd be useful, Grantaire!' Same old, same old. And the kicker? He's completely blind to something right in front of his face!"

Éponine paused for a moment before offering, "I'm sorry, R. But have you considered he's right? You have been drinking quite a bit lately."

"I've been drunk almost non-stop for the past two years," Grantaire scoffed. "You know that as well as I do, Ponine. You of all people should know why I do this!"

The girl smiled sadly, "I know R, I know. But seriously, it isn't healthy."

"Ponine, does it look like I give a rat's ass about my health? I prefer death over this hell I'm living!" Grantaire declared, shooting out of his chair. As he stood, the bottle slipped from his hand and dropped to the ground, shattering. Grantaire glanced at the red liquid as it spread across the café floor. "And as usual, I've made a fine mess of things," he deadpanned.

Éponine rose from her chair and walked to the supply closet in the corner of the room. She sighed as she grabbed a mop. "I think you're probably done for the night, R. Let's clean this mess up and then get you home."

Grantaire nodded his head resignedly and took the mop from the girl, who then returned to the closet to retrieve a broom and dustpan. She walked back over to her friend, who had begun half-heartedly wiping the mop in the spilled liquid. Éponine rolled her eyes and said, "R, why don't you just let me clean this up. Go sit over at that table."

The inebriated man signaled his agreement and handed the mop to Éponine. After ten minutes, the spill had been mopped up, and the broken glass had been disposed of. The girl looked over at her friend, who had dozed off in his chair. She shook him awake, gently murmuring, "Wake up, R. Let's get you home."

Grantaire awoke with a start, his eyes blinking rapidly. After a few seconds, he stood up shakily and said, "Lead the way, mam'selle. But tell me, why do you put up with me?"

Éponine smirked as she offered her arm to Grantaire, who took it and leaned on the girl to steady himself. As the two friends made their way out the door into the Parisian night, she replied, "Simply because I know you'd do the same for me, 'Taire."

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm trying something a little new here. I'm intending for this to be a series of unrelated one-shots. I just wrote this one on a whim, and hopefully I've caught your interest. These one-shots are inspired by the textsfromep blog on Tumblr.**

**Also, I do not own Les Misérables**


	2. English Accents and Flying Limes

_In which Courfeyrac is mocked in class, and then professes his love for "Meryl Streep"_

* * *

_Bzzzzzt!_

Éponine looked down at her phone. Next to her, Grantaire's gaze remained on the television screen. Onscreen, Robin Williams was tamping out the flames on his fake bosom. Grantaire took another sip from the lemonade that Éponine had poured for him when they arrived at the apartment. "Who's that?" he inquired, not looking away from the movie.

"Courfeyrac. He's on his way home. Says he's had a bad day," the girl replied.

Grantaire exhaled loudly. "Guess we're done watching the movie then."

"What do you mean by that?" Éponine asked, frowning.

"Nothing really. Except you know how Courf can be dramatic about things. He probably did something stupid, it bit him in the ass, and now the world's going to end. Then after ten minutes, he'll be over it, and then I'll end up needing a beer." With this, Grantaire stared pleadingly at Éponine.

She smirked at him. "Nice try, buddy. You're not drinking today. Yesterday you were so wasted you started marching around Musain, waving a baguette around in the air and shouting, 'I'm the Fifth Musketeer!' I think you might have given Jehan a bruise."

"In my defense, the meeting was going into its fourth hour. Even Ferre was starting to nod off, and Enjolras wasn't showing any signs of slowing down. Somebody needed to lighten the mood," Grantaire exclaimed.

"Despite that R, you can't just start beating the poet with a loaf of bread and expect everyone to laugh along with you. You're not drinking today. And keep the movie on, please. I want to see James Bond take a lime to the back of the head!" Éponine folded her arms in defiance, and Grantaire, upon seeing that she wouldn't back down, wisely let the subject go.

In ten minutes, the pair heard the door open as Courfeyrac shuffled into the apartment. Their usually buoyant friend groaned as he entered the room, and Éponine jumped a bit as he threw himself down on the living room floor, burying his face in the carpet.

After an awkward silence, Grantaire shifted to his left on the couch and remarked, "I think the couch would be a bit more comfortable than the floor, Courf. Don't you agree?"

Courfeyrac raised his head to look at his two friends, who were still staring at him with trepidation. "Today sucked, guys. I've had a terrible day."

"Why? What happened?" inquired Éponine. She took a bowl of trail mix from the coffee table beside her and held it out towards the boy on the ground. He rose up on his elbows and took it from her, then greedily reached his hand into the bowl and shoved a handful of the snack into his mouth. Beside Éponine, Grantaire sniggered. They both knew that food was the best way to get Courf to perk up.

"It's my English class. Today, the professor asked me to stand in front of the class and read a passage from the textbook. But I wasn't thinking, and my accent was all wrong, and everyone laughed at me. Hey, this is really good! Did you make this yourself, Ép?" replied Courf, his mouth still filled with food.

Grantaire was unmoved. "Wait, that's it? Your whole day was ruined because your classmates laughed at you?"

The other boy smiled and said, "It's not just that, R. The girl I've been talking about the past couple days, Audrey? She's in that class. And when I tried to put the moves on her after class, she just laughed really hard and walked away!"

Grantaire scoffed, "I don't believe this. You're bent all out of shape because some stupid girl doesn't like your English accent. You're incredible, Courf! Did you know that some people aren't that lucky? There are some people who can't even have a serious conversation with—"

"Grantaire!" Éponine interjected loudly. The two boys stopped yelling and turned to look at her. Éponine didn't raise her voice often, but on those rare occasions she often had a good reason for doing so. She gave Grantaire a knowing look before turning to Courfeyrac.

"I… Courf, I wouldn't worry about it too much. There are loads of other girls out there who'd love to go out with you, whether or not your English accent is funny."

"Aw, thanks Ép!" smiled Courf. "And you know, I'm free tomorrow night. Want to join me for a romantic dinner for two?"

"Ew, no," returned Éponine immediately. "We're friends, Courf. I don't date my friends." At that, both Grantaire and Courf broke into bouts of laughter. The girl glared at them.

"Okay, sure Ponine, whatever you say!" chuckled Grantaire. "All of us are as oblivious as a certain '_Monsieur Marius_!'"

"You seem to really be enjoying that lemonade, _Monsieur Grantaire_," Éponine spat. "Would you like to be wearing it on your head?"

Courfeyrac couldn't stop laughing. "Oh, this is amazing! One of these days you're going to kill me Ponine!" Upon receiving a death glare from the girl, he quickly added, "I'm joking! I'm only joking!" Meanwhile, Grantaire got up from his seat and drifted into the kitchen.

"Are you sure you're joking, Courf? Because right now I'm not above killing you. I could definitely arrange it!" growled Éponine. She hated that her feelings for Marius were far from transparent to all of _Les Amis_ except the object of her affections. Still, at times she was grateful for their support.

"Of course! Of course!" Courf sputtered, trying to catch his breath. "But really Éponine, thank you. Hey, what are we watching? I didn't know that Meryl Streep was in _Matilda_! I love her!"

"That isn't… actually, this is the deluxe edition. They deleted her scenes from the original release," said Éponine, shaking her head at her friend's cluelessness.

"She's such a great actress!" Courf exclaimed, his eyes shining with admiration. "Hey, can you guys pause it for a few minutes? I need to take a shower. You don't want to know what I smell like!" With that, he got up from the ground and made his way towards his bedroom. Éponine gawked at him as he left, trying to comprehend what had just transpired.

"And his _charming_ personality returns!" declared Grantaire as he returned to the couch, open beer in hand. "What?" he asked, feigning innocence.

Éponine gave him a disapproving look, then shook her head dismissively. "I don't care anymore, R. If you want to destroy your liver, be my guest." She ran her hand through her hair in frustration.

Grantaire smiled as he sipped from the bottle. "I'm sorry Ép. But there is a silver lining to all this, believe it or not."

"Do I even want to know?"

"I'm not the only person who thinks Courf's English is terrible!"

Éponine threw her head back and laughed. "Well, I guess there is that," she admitted. "Now shush, this is the best part!"

And the two friends watched as Robin Williams swore to find the perpetrator of the run-by fruiting.

* * *

**I'm a bit meh about this one. It's one of those things that sounded great in my head, but when I typed it out... oh well. It's not terrible, though.**

**For those of you who didn't catch on, the movie that R and Éponine are watching is _Mrs. Doubtfire_. It was on when I was coming up with the idea, so I just decided to incorporate it into the chapter.**

**Anyways, hope you all enjoy it! Comments are appreciated! I'm out of town this weekend, so I don't know if I'll post anything else before next week, but who knows?**

**I don't own Les Misérables or Mrs. Doubtfire. And am I the only one who thinks Mrs. Doubtfire looks a bit like Meryl Streep?**


End file.
